


Cowboy Boots

by thisisapaige



Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel in a doctor's coat and cowboy boots, Dean Winchester Under the Influence, Doctor Sexy M.D. (Supernatural), Flirting, Fluff, Hospitals, Humor, I think that is worthy of a tag, Little Shit Sam Winchester, M/M, One Shot, Silly, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural), Temporary Amnesia, aka the hospital gave him a bunch of painkillers, drug induced and minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: (For Suptober20. Day 30 Prompt: Dress-up)⁂Dean opened his eyes. A man leaned over Dean, a man with blue eyes, messy dark hair, and full lips. He wore a white doctor's coat and Dean turned his head to see the guy’s feet.Fuck yeah, those were cowboy boots.“Hey there, Doctor Sexy,” Dean mumbled, trying to speak through all those fun drugs the hospital gave him. “Am I dreaming?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950343
Comments: 12
Kudos: 216
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Cowboy Boots

“Mr. Bonham? Mr. Bonham, can you hear me?”

Stark white lighting swirled overhead. Beeping machines, the scuffle of shoes on hard flooring, and voices sounded from all around, unfiltered, incomprehensible. It was too much, too much, too much.

“We’re losing him.”

More sounds, more voices, more shuffling, more urgency. Hands everywhere, the sharp smell of antiseptic, and a sharp prick in the arm. 

The lights went out.

⁂

“Dean. Dean. You said you would be fine. This is not fine, Dean.”

The stark white light stayed still. The beeping machines became quiet. There were no scuffling feet and only one voice, a deep, low, calming voice.

Dean opened his eyes. A man leaned over Dean, a man with blue eyes, messy dark hair, and full lips. He wore a white doctor's coat and Dean turned his head to see the guy’s feet.

Fuck yeah, those were cowboy boots.

“Hey there, Doctor Sexy,” Dean mumbled, trying to speak through all those fun drugs the hospital gave him. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” the doctor said, “but you do have a lot of medication in your body.”

Dean grinned. It felt wobbly. “Do I ever.”

“Dean.” The doctor sat on the edge of Dean’s bed. “You promised me you’d be fine.”

“Oh, I‘m fine alright.” Dean peered into blue, blue eyes. “But not as fine as you.”

The doctor squinted and tilted his head to the side. Aww, Doctor Sexy was also Doctor Adorable. 

“Perhaps they gave you more medication than I thought,” the doctor said.

“Or-- and hear me out here-- not enough,” Dean said.

The doctor shook his head but Dean saw that little smile and spark of amusement in his eyes. It was so cute. 

“Well, we still need to find that spirit and only the injured can see it.” The doctor stood. “Let’s hurry so I can heal you.”

The doctor checked Dean’s IV and did… uh, doctor stuff. Dean wasn’t paying much attention. He was admiring the cowboy boots.

Doctor Sexy helped Dean out of bed which was the exact opposite of what Dean wanted but, considering Doctor Sexy was supporting him with his big, strong hands and Dean was leaning against his big, strong body, Dean didn’t mind all that much.

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, making sure his hospital gown covered everything important.

“To the pediatrics ward. The spirit disproportionately targets children, remember?”

“No.” A shooting pain ran up Dean’s leg when he tried to walk. “M’leg hurts.”

“That would be due to the spike that went through it when the spirit threw you.” The doctor opened the door and headed down the empty hospital hallway. “Dean, are you well?”

Dean tried to walk. Actually, it was more like he being dragged by the doctor but in a kind, gentle way. “Don’t know. I am, like, super stoned.”

“I’ve noticed.” 

Wow, this doctor seemed, like, super fond of Dean. That was nice. 

“Hey, doc,” Dean said. “I don’t know if there’s rules or whatever against it but, once I’m outta here, you wanna go to dinner or something?”

The doctor stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. He gripped Dean by the shoulders, moved so they were face to face, and stared into his eyes. 

“Dean.” The doctor lowered his brows. “You _are_ aware I’m not a real doctor?”

“You’re not?” Dean swayed but the doctor’s hands kept him upright. “Yeah, you’re like, way too hot for that.”

Doctor Sexy squinted and didn’t speak for a moment. He shook his head and continued down the hallway, half-carrying Dean.

“You’re the one who told me to play dress-up, Dean,” the doctor said. “You gave me the boots.”

“I did? I have good taste, then.”

They reached the pediatrics ward. A tall man in green scrubs greeted them at the entrance. 

“Hey, Cas,” said Nurse Too Long Hair, “how is he?”

“Dean is…” The doctor glanced at Dean from the corner of his eye, saying his next words carefully, like he never used the phrase before, “High as a kite.”

The nurse snorted and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced between Dean and the doctor, paying special attention to Dean’s hand snaking around the doctor’s waist. “How’s that going for you?”

“He’s still ‘out of it,’ as you say.”

“Hey,” Dean said, “Nurse Big n’ Tall. Give me some clippers and I can fix that mop for you.”

The nurse rolled his eyes, then looked at the doctor. “He’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s almost sundown so we should get to work. Jack should be able to distract everyone long enough to--”

The nurse kept going on and on but Dean tuned him out. It was surprisingly easy. Instead, Dean rested his head on Doctor Sexy’s shoulder and gazed up at him. Dean took in his fill, admiring the square shape of the doctor’s jaw, the perfect amount of stubble dusting it, and the way his lips moved as he spoke. 

“Hey! Hey, Dean!” The nurse snapped his fingers in front of Dean’s face. Wow. Unprofessional. “See something you like there?”

Dean attempted to straighten when he saw the teasing grin on the nurse’s face. “Shut up.”

“Well, whatever.” The nurse reached behind his back, producing a gun. “If you see a creepy, floating woman, point me to it.”

Dean didn’t have enough time to process the sudden change to an urgent mood before he was shoved through the door behind him. There was a long row of beds, with a few of them occupied by small sleeping bodies, and the standard hospital equipment in between each one. 

That was all Dean had time to see because he was more than a little preoccupied with the black flowing robes hovering over one of those sleeping forms. From the mass of robes, skeletal hands stretched out and pulled back the blankets.

Dean shouted, pointing at the hovering form. The nurse ran right for the danger. A fierce sense of protectiveness took over Dean. Dean broke free from the doctor's hold and limped toward the nurse. 

Dean had to protect him. Dean had to protect him. Dean had to protect him. 

The spirit turned around and hissed, opening its maw of black, rotted teeth. With a wave of its long bony fingers, the nurse lifted off his feet. He flew across the room, landing hard into a steel cart that buckled under the impact. He slumped.

The shock sobered Dean instantly. 

"Cas!" Dean shouted, because he remembered now, remembered everything. He yelled to be heard over the vengeful spirit's favourite party trick: icy, howling wind. "Help Sam!"

Dean slid across the floor to reach Sam's discarded gun, ignoring the pain in his leg, ignoring the feel of the cold floor on his bare legs. Sheesh. Cas could’ve at least given him some pants. 

He grabbed the gun and, through the swirl of chart papers and shining, sharp medical equipment around his head, aimed the gun at the floating figure. Dean fired.

The bullet hit the spirit dead centre. The spirit screamed and collapsed around the wounds, like a ghostly black hole. With one final puff of icy cold air, the spirit dissipated. The papers fluttered to the ground and the medical equipment clattered against the tiled floor. Dean shielded his face. A syringe bounced off his elbow.

“Take that you asshole,” Dean said. 

A flare of pain ran up his leg. In response, Dean grabbed it. His hand came away wet.

Dean heard his name. He saw the sleeping figures stir in their beds. Dean swayed, swayed, swayed, unable to stay upright.

Stark white lighting swirled overhead. Beeping machines, the scuffle of shoes on hard flooring, and voices from every direction sounded from all around, unfiltered, incomprehensible. It was too much, too much, too much.

The lights went out.

⁂

“Dean. Dean. This is not fine. I am never letting you do this again.”

The lighting wasn’t stark white, but soft yellow. There were no beeping machines. The voice, however, the low calming voice was the same.

Dean opened his eyes. Cas leaned over him, the same blue eyes, messy dark hair, and full lips. He was back in the familiar trench coat and Dean turned his head to look at Cas’s feet.

Fuck yeah, Cas kept the cowboy boots. 

“Hey there, Doctor Sexy,” Dean said. “Nice boots.”

Cas sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Dean’s bed back in the bunker. Cas grabbed Dean’s chin and peered into his eyes. 

Dean swatted Cas’s hand away. “Don’t worry, Cas. I’m not stoned this time.”

“I wanted to make sure,” Cas said. “You took longer to recover than I’d like.”

Dean sat up and pushed back the covers. He ran a hand over his leg, whole and healthy. He also noticed that he finally had some pants. 

“I’m all good here,” Dean said. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas stared at Dean, saying nothing. Dean let him. Cas’s eyes shone in the lamplight.

“I’m fine, Cas.” Dean ran a finger down the slope of Cas’s jaw. “Really.”

“Sam and Jack,” Cas said, leaning into the touch, “will want to know you’re awake.”

“And they will, in a minute.” Dean ran his hand up Cas’s cheek until his fingers ran through his hair. “I got a question first.”

“What?” Cas asked, his voice soft.

“I don’t know if there’s rules or whatever against it but, once I’m outta here, you wanna go to dinner or something?”

Cas smiled and, yeah, he had such a nice smile. “I’ve never been one for following rules.” He reached out, tracing the shape of Dean’s bottom lip. “Yes. Or something.”

Dean grinned. “It’s a date.”

He pulled Cas forward and left a soft kiss on his lips. They pressed their foreheads together, smiling at each other like the silly lovestruck fools they were. 

“Oh,” Dean said, “one more thing. I got a request for when we go out.”

“What’s that?”

“Wear the cowboy boots.”


End file.
